Normandy 1944, one step on the long road to victory

24 Oct 2019

An article from our Denix guest blogger:  Daniel Ortega del Pozo

Have you ever felt that knot in your stomach when you are about to do something that will change your life forever? Have you ever felt nauseous when furrowing the sea or, perhaps, a river of rough waters? I assure you that what you are about to read will remove your guts and, why not say it, awareness, because what you will experience may be something similar to what many men lived several decades ago. I speak of a distant June 6, 1944, when thousands of American soldiers, aboard noisy landing boats, approached the Normandy beaches. But let's not forget the Germans who defended that sector of the French coast, since they also suffered a hurricane of fire that swept the Norman coast from end to end.

At dawn, as a prelude to what would become a bloody day, hundreds of boats of all kinds grappled with the rough waves that shook the English Channel. The weather, since the beginning of the month, seemed to be primed with one of the most emblematic scenes of World War II.

Photo 1: Men and landing boats reach the beaches of Normandy.

Some of those vessels, equipped with large-caliber cannons, spat out endlessly shells towards a vast target called Normandy. The noise was deafening. Others, destined to the transport of assault troops, received countless blows of rough waves. Thousands of M1-Garand rifles stood out on the rectilinear profile of those sober vessels filled with men who barely held their breath, not to mention vomit, which already splashed the uniform of many infants. The sea, too rough, waved the boats where, crowded like canned sardines, the soldiers prepared to participate in a battle whose noise was going to reverberate in the pages of the history books.

Men invaded by uncertainty, curiosity, courage and, of course, an overwhelming fear that oozed by eyes that looked without seeing. Eyes lacking brightness. Eyes full of illusions, dreams and hopes about to break apart, with their souls, from one moment to another ...

I was there, on that beach called Omaha code, but several decades later. I remember that in my first raid on Normandy I barely exceeded twenty, like many of the soldiers who fought and died there, also on their first visit to Normandy. I perfectly remember the smell of the sea, intense, full of pain and evocation of the past. There, in Omaha, I enjoyed one of my best documentation trips. Why? Join me and you will find out.

HOW DID YOU GET TO “D-DAY”?

It seems a mirage when, in the spring of 1944, from the vertiginous perspective granted by the passage of time, it was evoked what Operation Dynamo was: the evacuation from the continent to England of thousands of soldiers of the British Expeditionary Force, in addition to an important contingent of French and Belgians, in a Western Europe that was consumed in the flames of the incipient Second World War. Then, the Wehrmacht (the German Army) seemed to overwhelm everything in its path. Several nations had succumbed under their devastating thrust in a matter of weeks, others were about to do so.

But the distant spring of 1940, over the years, ended up blurring in the memory of the soldiers. Since then, the war shook North Africa, the Pacific, but also southern Italy, Eastern Europe and Asia. Germany, along with its allies, entered the USSR field in another spring, that of 1941, when Operation Barbarroja was completed, the daring attempt of Adolf Hitler to dominate the vast country led with an iron fist by Stalin.

Photo 2: The Red Army has suffered terrific casualties to withstand the Wehrmacht's push across Russia.

The latter had requested to his allies, on more than one occasion, the need to open a second front, of important dimensions, capable of distracting part of the resources that Germany had destined in the war against the USSR. Both nations, since June 22, 1941, had been facing each other for many years in an unparalleled, wild, primitive battle, barely comparable in proportions and brutality with the other scenarios where the world war was taking place. There, in Russia, is where the real war was fought.

Meanwhile, the rest of the allied countries of the Soviet Union, notably the United Kingdom and the United States, began to conceive and execute Operation Bodyguard. This operation, designed in mid-1943 and presented in the context of the Tehran Conference (November 28 to December 1, 1943), had as its main objective to deceive the Germans, sow confusion and divert attention from the exact point where the Allied landing would take place to open a second front of transcendence for the development of the war. That place was none other than the beaches of Normandy.

Photo 3: Map of Operation Bodyguard and its subordinate plans.

The aforementioned Operation Bodyguard, in turn, was divided into multiple operations also focused on deception and misinformation. Some would focus their efforts on Italy, southern and western France, and even other European countries. I would not like to overlook the importance of Operation Fortitude, which really concerns us, focused on reclaiming German resources to other points of European geography. This operation was subdivided into two:

Operation North Fortitude: its objective was to simulate an attack on Norway. For this, a fictional army was set up, the Fourth British Army, which despite having a remarkable background in the previous war, the Great War (1914-1918), this time was not going to take an active part in the alleged attack on the Scandinavian country , but, from its base in Edinburgh (Scotland), would keep the maximum number of German resources allocated in Norway occupied. Based on carrying out an intense traffic of radio communications, obviously false, information leaks through double agents and the occasional movement of troops through Scottish territory, the plan ended up yielding effective results.
Operation Fortitude South:on this occasion, at the same time as the previous one, the focus was on presuming a landing at the Calais Pass, located in France, the closest point to the British Isles with respect to the continent and, in addition, a place from which start the shortest route to Germanic territory (the most obvious option to start the invasion of Europe). To this end, the First Group of Armies of the USA was set up, also fictional, which ended up in the hands of General Patton himself, a very striking figure for the German High Command given his trajectory throughout the war. Like the previous one, thousands of fake radio communications, troop movements, espionage work were carried out and even dummy camps were erected and simulated armored vehicles were located at that point in southern England.
And the question that arises after reading this section is: were these elaborate stratagems effective? They were. Therefore, many Wehrmacht resources were retained in areas far away from the Normandy coast, where hell would break loose months later.

Photo 4: "Dummy tank". An inflatable allied combat car.

ALL OR NOTHING. THE HOURS BEFORE LANDING.

Disappeared, on June 5, 1944, the weather is primed with some points of the English Channel. Striking wind and gusty rains whip the strip of sea that separates England from France. The Allies, on the island. The Germans, on the continent. They have been playing cat and mouse for a long time. The insufferable tension, finally, is one step away from disappearing.

On the shoulders of a single man lies the destiny of thousands. All, without exception, on both sides of the canal, await their fate with the nerves consumed because of the very decisive moments. General Dwight D. Eisenhower, born in Texas (USA), commanding the entire Allied contingent, weighs inside the decision that will record his imprint on history. Immersed in an oppressive atmosphere, surrounded by a select group of officers, it is not an easy task to pronounce. But, suddenly ... Go ahead! Exclaims after assessing hundreds of factors and possible scenarios, in favor and against Operation Overlord. Impossible to postpone it. Tens of thousands of men are waiting, since days ago, crowded in camps, airfields and ports, the long-awaited landing.

Photo 5: Eisenhower dialogues with soldiers of the 101st US Airborne Division in the hours before D-Day.

The news runs like wildfire. From Eisenhower Headquarters to the last of the soldiers, the novelty runs from mouth to mouth at an astonishing speed. Some believe it is a joke. The landing has been postponed repeatedly during the previous days due to bad weather. Others, eager to take action, prepare for combat with eyes overflowing with uncertainty. Has arrived the time of truth.

The weather forecasts announce a "window" of relative calm in time. Eisenhower decides to play that trick. All or nothing. Otherwise, the invasion must be postponed several weeks. Something inconceivable to him and his General Staff.

Meanwhile, some of the senior German officers, including Erwin Rommel himself, decide to move away from the Norman coast to enjoy a few days of leave. Most of them do not presume an allied landing given the rugged weather. In addition, if that were the case, Field Marshal Rommel is confident that the intricate defensive network will be an impregnable wall for invading troops. At least yes in Calais, but you don't have them all in the area of ​​the Normandy beaches. If he had had more time, in addition to more and better resources ... This question, and many others, flash in his mind on the way to a fleeting encounter with his wife, with whom he has been summoned to celebrate her birthday in the company of the son of both, Manfred.

Photo 6: Field Marshal Erwin Rommel inspects part of the defenses of the "Atlantic Wall" in the spring of 1944 (Credits: Bundesarchiv).

ETERNAL NIGHT. JUNE 5 TO 6, 1944.

Through its special services, the BBC broadcasts regular messages to the continent to alert the French resistance about the exact day of the landing. One of those verses, whose authorship is coined to the famous poet Paul Verlaine, was issued on June 1:

“Les sanglots longs des violons de l'automne…”

The French, members of the resistance who recognized the "Chanson d'automne" (Autumn Song), held their breath. The liberation of France is presumed next!

The second part of that expected message had to wait until after 9:00 p.m. June 5, 1944. The invasion is about to begin!

"... Versen (Blessent in the original) mon cœur d'une langueur monotone."

Who was going to say it! A simple fragment of a poem symbolized the beginning of the invasion! After hearing the code message, hundreds of members of the French resistance, in the Normandy area, dusts their weapons and leave their hiding places to begin an extensive sabotage operation. Any relevant installation or German communication network must be harassed or taken out of service as soon as possible to facilitate the work of the Anglo-American troops that, in a matter of hours, will arrive in France.

Photo 7: Pathfinders of the 82nd US Airborne Division

One of the first contingents that leaves for Normandy are the Pathfinders. These daring soldiers, aboard several C-47s that take off from the base of the RAF (British Royal Air Force) in North Witham, undertake a risky flight that, in a matter of minutes, places them on the other side of the English Channel .

Once there, they parachute into the darkness. As soon as midnight has passed, like mushrooms suspended in the air, the parachutes descend in absolute silence. Silk tarps, swayed by the wind, of which about two hundred men hang. Airborne infants whose courageous work depends on the lives of thousands of paratroopers who, hours later, will follow in their footsteps.

Photo 8: American paratroopers about to jump off the transport plane.

On the ground, with the roar of the firing of the German anti-aircraft artillery as a backdrop, they place the communication devices that will guide the following waves of Anglo-American planes and gliders that will soon cross the partially overcast sky. More and more paratroopers of the Allied armies will soon appear above the Norman skies. But that is another story worthy of being treated in a separate chapter.

D-Day has arrived! There is no turning back!

Photo 9: Aerial view of the North Witham base.

FIRST HOURS OF JUNE 6, 1944 AT OMAHA BEACH.

Meanwhile, several kilometers away from Normandy, thousands of Allied soldiers head on all types of boats to the beaches. They cross raging waters. Maximum tension on their faces. Nervousness, restlessness and nausea intermingle in a sea of ​​uncertainty, agitated, too much to navigate without mishaps through the waters of the English Channel.

At dawn, boat rows line the French coast. One of those rows, made up of dozens of personnel transport boats, drives hundreds of men to Omaha Beach. There, a smoke screen rises from the small hills that are cut beyond the sand that inhabits the Gala coast. The previous bombings, in addition to the work of the warships that make their powerful cannons roar from a distance, have caused a kind of dense fog that sinisterly embraces some sectors of Omaha.

The defenders, German troops who do not give credit to what they see their eyes, are prepared to fight, because the tide of boats that is heading towards them does not sweep anything good. Canyons, weapons and mortars are oriented towards the waters of the canal. The tide seems to push those boats towards the mainland at a devilish speed.

Photo 10: German sentry watches over the "Atlantic Wall".

Within them, American soldiers pray to all known deities. Many are confident that the action of previous attrition, in charge of aviation and the naval artillery that escort them, will be enough to have put out all resistance. There are those who think that the arrival in Normandy will be a piece of cake ... That we will hardly have to use weapons, such as the M1-Garand that many of them cling to with their hands, dotted with seawater that also soaks their greenish-colored uniforms. Also the holsters, where they keep the ammunition for their rifles, inseparable.

The burnt fuel lash and the smell of saltpeter are mixed in a gloomy combination. Cracking nerves. Intense swell. More than one soldier throws up on the flooded floor of the boat that leads him, along with his companions, towards his encounter with History. Others just got their needs done. Urines and excrescences decorate the middle and lower part of the uniform of several infants. The impending assault wreaks havoc even before it occurs. Who does not recognize at this point that he is dead of fear, or is a madman, or lies ostentatiously.

Photo 11: American soldiers heading to the beaches. Some of them carry their M1-Garand protected inside plastic protective covers.

Soon the first shells of the German artillery raining next to the landing craft, shaken to pleasure by the waves, more than a meter and a half of some of them. The engines of the assault boats roar at full power, but the shocking explosions eclipse the powerful noise that emerges from their guts.

The whistle of shrapnel cuts the air, announcer of tragedy. Some of the boats, built with wood in a large part of their structure, show their murderous effects. The first dead and wounded collapse on the floor of the boats. They have not had the opportunity to step on solid ground. The sea water, icy, intermingles with the blood, warm. Horrible vision for many.

Photo 12: Landing boat wounded by death.

The front part of the boats, where the metal ramp is located, which in a few moments will rest on the sands of Omaha, is the only protection entrusted to the crew of this kind of floating coffins. The rattle of shrapnel and the blow of the waves against the ramps lead more than one towards dementia. The officers and non-commissioned officers try to impose order among the personnel on board, it would be said that many of them children, who are barely twenty years old, and who are forced to go through a hell that howls around. Some do not have combat experience, their innocent looks betray bisoñez.

The assigned landing point is getting bigger and bigger in your retinas. This is evidenced by hovering slightly over the side. No one can stop such a rush anymore.

During the last meters remaining to navigate to the beach of Omaha, many are the soldiers who tune their rifles. The hailstorm of mortars, intense, barks a hard fight. Some boat jumps through the air after fitting the direct impact of some German grenade or when hitting mines, located at the top end of wooden poles hidden by the tide. Others tilt and are about to dump over the sea of ​​death, the result of terrifying explosions. The crackle of the boats bristles the hair to the bravest. Trembling fingers prove that the weapons are ready. More than one soldier mechanically checks his M1-Garand. Everything seems in order. This is witnessed by furtive looks exchanged by the frightened soldiers. Nothing can be left to chance now that the fight against the enemy is inevitable.

HELL BREAKS LOOSE. LANDING ON THE BEACH OF OMAHA.

Whistles and sharp orders force the men, crowded into the assault boats, to abandon the boats in the next few seconds. Swarms of bullets fly over the heads of the Americans that make up the first wave. There is too much danger out there! Where is the artillery to cover us? What the hell is wrong with aviation? These are issues that hammer the infants' heads over and over again. Soldiers whose throats, in some cases gripped by an indescribable anguish, are unable to emit any sound.

Photo 14: US soldiers about to disembark.

The first boats touch the sands of Omaha, full of obstacles, after crossing a raging sea. The crew responsible for releasing the human cargo release the heavy metal ramps, which fall to the front with great rumble. Dull and dry blow capable of freezing the blood to anyone. But even more so is the sound of machine guns and rifle used by German troops, cliffed high in the hills that preside over that sector of the Norman coast. Dozens of American soldiers fall on their faces in the boats themselves, they have barely managed to get a foot out of them, because the accurate German gusts hit the greenish mass that tries to abandon them. Capital surprise of those who survive the carnage. Moments ago, no one expected such a welcome.

Those who of pure miracle manage to leave the boats behind, throw themselves into the waters without thinking twice. Those who have greater fortune, prove that the level of the sea reaches them at the waist. Frosty hug from that French beach. Perhaps the lesser evil seen the picture that appears before his eyes. Others, in whom misfortune has been primed, drown without being able to remedy it in the rough waters, dyed red; the heavy equipment they carry has been able to drag them to the seabed. Meanwhile, the explosions thunder and the bullets whistle around those who have survived the first encounter with the wall of enemy fire.

Photo 15: The soldiers, with the water around the waist, must travel tens of meters to reach the shore and find a place to find coverage.

The Americans who have dodged the initial carnage continue their progress barely. Dizzy, soaked and shocked, with the shore behind them, where countless bodies are rocked by the waves, they throw themselves on the ground and start firing their weapons towards the hills. M1-Garand rifles spit lead endlessly. Men leave their skin in a ruthless, atrocious struggle, as evidenced by the countless caps that surround the bodies of those soldiers who are still holding one piece to shoot at an enemy they are unable to glimpse in the midst of deafening chaos. Both the smell of gunpowder and the saltpeter, as the burning lash of fuel and the sinister fragrance of death materialized in rivers of blood and eviscerated companions, cause the most painted vomit.

From the hills, where the German trenches, some forts and various casemates are located, comes a real storm of destruction. Mg-42 machine guns and Kar-98 rifles add to the annihilation work carried out by mortars and artillery pieces located in the rear. From some German bunker, officers direct the devastating cannon fire, guilty of much of the Omaha massacre. Dozens of corpses spread here and there. Bisoños soldiers share a nightmare with other more experienced, whose serious countenance to the extreme do not grant any confidence. All of them see the remains of what until recently were comrades flying through the air. Mines and artillery wreak havoc at pleasure.

Photo 16: Reaching the shore is only the beginning of hell (Credits: Magnum).

Bloody rags decorate the beach in a macabre way. Someone asks for a toilet in the middle of his lungs, has just lost a leg, but does not prevent him from crawling, while he asks for help, to seek cover inside a small sink filled with terrified soldiers. A group of men fires their M1-Garand rifles. They empty loaders at an amazing speed. No matter the speed and firepower, in a matter of seconds there is not one left alive. The Mg-42 end up sweeping them without mercy. Their bodies, turned into colanders, bleed on the sand.

Where are the reinforcements ?! What kind of hell they sent us! Somebody get us out of this slaughterhouse! They are screams that rise in a sky full of blinding smoke. Countless throats beg for medical assistance. The toilets are unable to carry out their work with guarantees since German bullets and grenades spray death where they strike; They also fall under fire.

Photo 17: Corpses and wounded are piled up on the shore.

Nailed to the ground, under some of the obstacles that dot the beach, with most of the officers and noncommissioned officers killed (responsible for directing and coordinating the assault), the fate of US soldiers from the first wave hangs by a thread . Your weapons seem ineffective. No matter how much ammunition they shoot with their M1-Garand, the resistance on the beaches is met.

What luck will these men run? Will the Allied High Command send more men in successive waves? Will you order the withdrawal from one moment to another?

A RAY OF HOPE IN THE HELL OF OMAHA.

From early in the morning, successive waves of North American infants have landed in the various sectors of Omaha Beach. There, the material spreads everywhere. Also the men, crowded together with several of the seawalls and promontories that make up the layout of that landing area, protect themselves from the hail of artillery with which the Germans do not stop punishing allied troops.

A full-fledged chaos. Over the course of the hours, some battle tanks manage to land on the ground to provide support to the infants. The misfortune seems to be primed with the Shermans who arrive at the beaches, since the few who have managed to survive the sea crossing soon suffer the devastating action of the Germanic canyons.

Thanks to the energetic action of a handful of American officers, followed unconditionally by their subordinates, they manage to breach some of the inland waterways. Death passes where advancing one meter means taking on terrifying casualties. The work of the sappers is commendable, because they play the type to fly through the air all the obstacles that impede the advance beyond the coast. Overcoming those hills becomes a decisive issue to achieve the success of the entire operation. More than one officer spurs his men briskly: We will die like lambs on the beaches or we will do it as heroes in the attempt to take enemy positions! Such duality is the only thing that fits in the minds of those who direct the inward advance between the thunderous combat,

Photo 22: American soldiers leave a parapet in an attempt to open the inland gap.

Soon they arrive in the ears of Eisenhower and its General Staff news related to the landing. Although at first they are devastating, almost conducive to order the withdrawal given the bleeding on the Omaha beach, with the passing of the hours the chaos turns into hope. Some men have made their way inland! The American general sighs in relief. Pray inside and embrace the blind faith he has placed in each and every one of his soldiers. Some step, like that of Vierville, has finally been expedited, although the enemy artillery still harasses the Americans sporadically.

SUNSET IN THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE OF OMAHA.

The hours pass slowly. Sangria of men with every action taken by the assailant soldiers to clear the last redoubts in possession of German troops. Those who do not fall dejected by the firings of the M1-Garand and Thompson submachine guns in the last effort to contain the enemy advance, raise their arms in a clear sign of surrender. It makes no sense to continue the fight.

When they reach the top of the hills, Americans who still remain in one piece, check the result of the landing astonished. Their eyes, empty, full of impotence, are fixed in the dozens of bodies that, scattered all over the beach, rest on the sand next to their M1 rifles or are shaken by the waves, just at the junction point where sand and water they merge into a line of vivid crimson color. Up there they discover, inside or around the German WN (Widerstandnest) or "resistance nests", the corpses of many enemy soldiers, surrounded by countless caps and material abandoned to their fate. They too have been victims of the brutality witnessed during the long hours of fighting.

Photo 23: A group of Germans, captured on the beaches, road to captivity.

From time to time the solo shot of some M1-Garand resonates. Also the sporadic explosion of some enemy howitzer echoes with a shuddering echo. The combat on the beach called Omaha has come to an end. Such a dramatic and bloody episode, experienced by hundreds of soldiers, has only been the beginning of the hard advance towards the interior of France and the subsequent progress towards Germany. The contest still lacks many months ahead. There are still many dead bodies to count.

On the opposite side, the German High Command knows that it has just lost a golden opportunity to contain the opening of a second relevant front in Europe. Rommel himself said long ago when he said that the invasion should stop at the beaches, during the first twenty-four hours. It also required the presence of armored divisions in areas near the Norman coast, but their request was ignored, at least in part. The reinforcements to bridge the gap were on their way, yes, but at the end of the day ... Too late to reverse the situation. The twilight of the Third Reich was glimpsed on the horizon. Even more so when, weeks later, the Red Army unleashed its Operation Bagration, on June 22 of that same year 1944,

Part of the initial objectives of Operation Overlord had been fulfilled that historic day ... Of course, at a very high price.

Photo 24: North American progress in Normandy at the end of D-Day.

D-DAY NIGHT ARRIVES.

Was it worth so much sacrifice? Perhaps that was asked one of those soldiers who, on top of one of the hills that preside over Omaha, with his unexpected M1-Garand rifle in one hand and a canteen in the other, reflected on what happened that historic day.

Like him, but several decades later, I reflected on one of those hills about what happened that distant June 6, 1944. I also wondered if the titanic effort was of any use.

I will not answer this question. I prefer the reader to do it, especially the one who has visited this stage, because he knows that at the top of those promontories there is still loneliness, pain and, perhaps, some hope in the human being.

Photo 25: American soldier, next to two rifles, lies on the shore (Credits: Reuters).

Did it help? I only know that that soldier, like so many others, was resupplied with more ammunition for his M1-Garand and then ordered to drive his steps inland, because there was still a lot of work ahead. The beginning of the fight for countless Bisoño infants, like that soldier who reflected on the top of the hill, had just begun that spring day of 1944.

What happened to him, his countrymen and his enemies? Many of them perished anonymously on the battlefield, others disappeared without a trace and some returned home after suffering the living example of human unreasonableness. Those who experienced in the first person the excessive violence of that D-Day changed forever ... How not to do it!

Photo 26: German cemetery in La Cambe, Normandy.

One of those symbols that also starred in D-Day was the effective American M1-Garand rifle. Palpable reminiscence of what that apocalyptic day was on the beaches of Normandy and, of course, on the sands of Omaha.

Man and rifle. Tandem indissoluble that will last in history.